Desire by Tom Berry

There’s a thought inside your head. It’s right there. I wonder if it’s as cute as what encapsulates it. Maybe you’ve got thoughts in your thighs, or your calves… or rumbling in your ankles. Wouldn’t that be something?

I wonder if your thought is physically manifested. Might it be solid like a block, but trapezoidal? Hollow? Spotted? Does it stay still, flicker, rotate, shape-shift? I’m upset because even if you share your thought with me, I’ll never get to see it. But you’re still gazing into space for what another might call no particular reason, so I’m going to try.